The White Album

As I continue to look at the music of 1968, I turn to the most popular band at the world at the time, The Beatles. Their output that year was prodigious, including the hit single "Hey Jude" (more on that in the days to come) and a double album, officially called The Beatles but known familiarly as the White Album.

While it as some great songs on it, the White Album also has some throwaway stuff that's hardly ever played anymore. Historically it's interesting because most of the album was written while the group was staying in India getting enlightened (or not) with the Maharishi Yogi. It was also the first album to be recorded after the death of Brian Epstein.

The record is more the work of four solo artists than a band, a quilt of songs. Of the thirty tracks, only sixteen feature all four lads. Paul McCartney was increasingly working by himself, recording "Mother Nature's Son," "Blackbird," and "Martha, My Dear" by his lonesome. John Lennon recorded the only song he ever did solo with the Beatles, "Julia." George Harrison had four of his own songs, and invited Eric Clapton to play on "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." When Clapton balked at playing on a Beatles record, George told him he could do whatever he wanted. "It's my song," he said. Ringo Starr wrote his first song for the group, "Don't Pass Me By" (he would only write one more, "Octopus' Garden").

So the White Album is certainly the most self-indulgent of the Beatles albums, but fortunately they were geniuses and could get away with it. McCartney's aforementioned "Blackbird," about the U.S. civil rights movement, took a melody by Bach and made it into a simple yet powerful statement. "Mother's Nature Son," another song with acoustic guitar, comes in softly and gently, like a mist, and then blooms into a beautiful song. His "I Will" became a wedding song standard. Harrison, while justly acclaimed for "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," had even a better song, I think, with "Long, Long, Long," delicate as an orchid and just as beautiful. John wrote songs from the bottom of his tortured soul, such as "I'm So Tired" and "Yer Blues," but also composed a beautiful lullaby with "Good Night," (sung by Ringo).

But you can hear the band fracturing. There are some departures into experimental music, such as "Wild Honey Pie," and "Why Don't We Do It in the Road?" (which Paul wrote after watching monkeys fuck in the street in India). John liked the song, but was angry that he wasn't allowed to play on it. Paul was angry that John didn't include any of the Beatles except Yoko Ono (this was her first appearance as John's girlfriend at recording sessions, which violated their rules about wives and girlfriends) on his "Revolution 9." That song, which is really a sound collage, may be the most skipped over track in all of the Beatles catalog. It's over eight minutes of random sounds, including a man repeating "Number 9," gunfire, a baby cooing, a choir, Yoko muttering "You become naked" and ends with a football crowd chanting "Block that kick!" It's a noble experiment, but I don't think it has anything much to say about anything, and just seems like an eight-minute doodle.

For his part, John didn't care for some of Paul's output. He called "Obla-Di Obla-da" "granny shit," and said that "Honey Pie," Paul's recreation of 1920's music hall, "beyond redemption." The band was just about done. Ringo did quit for a while, while producer George Martin, whose influence was almost gone, took a vacation in the middle of recording, and engineer Geoff Emerick quit and stayed quit.

This was the first album after Sgt. Pepper, and thus the cover was an opposite reaction to that busy cover--nothing except the name of the band in light gray letters. It did contain a poster with the lyrics and a picture of Paul that looks like ghostly hands are surrounding him, another "Paul is dead" clue. "Glass Onion," by John, makes self-references such as "Here's another clue for you all, the walrus was Paul."

The India visit was directly responsible for a few songs. "Dear Prudence" was about Mia Farrow's sister, who refused to come out of her room, and "Sexy Sadie" was originally called "Maharishi," until John was convinced he could have been sued (he was disillusioned with the man's teachings, singing "You made a fool of everyone").

And somewhere in the California desert, an ex-musician and cult leader, Charles Manson, thought the albums had clues for him, especially Harrison's "Piggies," about the avarice of the rich, and McCartney's "Helter Skelter," which referred to playground equipment but was so loud and raucous that Manson thought it referred to Hell. Fun fact: I once played "Helter Skelter" on a jukebox in an ice cream parlor. The owner hated it so much he vowed to remove it from the machine.

The White Album was the beginning of the end for the Beatles. Should they have cut down the material and released a single rather than a double album? Perhaps that would have made a better record, but I can't imagine life now without all these songs. It's not their best work--they needed better self-editing--but even their second-best is worlds above most bands.